Sinister: Coming over all December

[Mark Casarotto]

I'm hoping that today I'm going to be in the appropriate state of mind to
write great things (not the Echobelly song, thankfully - they were never the
same after Insomniac - is that what it's called? The one that doesn't go
"Mounted Police, carry me home", but something similar), as I'm feeling
Disillusioned. With work. Everything else is great, really, especially with
my gorgeous ex-sinister chickadee who I don't drivel on about nearly enough
on the list, to the relief of you all, I'm sure. We'll both be at the Po
Caff Xmas bash on Friday, though, so come and say hello to the balding mousy
boy in flares and the cute dark-haired girl who is obviously dating below
herself...

Whether or not list c****s are a good thing is indeed debatable (Sophie
Aldred's a minger, for a start), but I for one come into work every morning
desperate for my next fix of Lesley Jo's passionate affair with the spectre
of Isobel Campbell. And for this I'd like to award her the Carling Premier
listee of the month award, to be presented in the form of an illegal copy of
an old Headcoatees album. Lucky girl.

I'm sure I had lots more to say...maybe not. Hello to the depressingly
youthful and clever Rob B. and his lovely consort Emma (please god let her
be called Emma, as she was quite charming and I don't want to upset
anybody), and the depressingly smooth and laid-back Warrander John, all of
whom combined to make me pay far less attention to the excellent Pastels
experience than I should have. And a shout out to the depressingly
fashionable Milla-Isobel, having a simply marvellous sojourn in New York
City, in the off chance she reads this. And Nick Dastoor (phwoaar - see
archives for explanation of poor joke of many moons ago) - Vicky says your
tape is fantastic, and she can't wait for your next package (missus). And
finally, a tearful byesy bye to the delightful Beth Cholet...

Anyway, enough of that. I really don't have anything to say, do I? I would
appreciate any Xmas present suggestions, though (both for me and maiden
aunts, insane grandparents etc - I'm getting rather unhappy about the whole
thing...).

How come Catch 22 has never been discussed on this list? It seems the kind
of book that many people will have read and some will have been profoundly
affected by, myself more than anyone, and yet the archives reveal not a
single mention. Which is a pity. I think I've read it about a dozen times
now, and even bought a second copy of it so that I could lend it to people
without having to part company with my beaten up old copy. I'm pretty crap
on literature on the whole, which is why this is quite important to me. 

I have no tales of video shoots, or crushes on members of B&S (quiet lady
P!), I find CS Lewis creepy and archaic, and I've never even glanced
furtively at another mailing list's bum, let alone succumbed to their
seductive pull. And I still don't have a cardigan. What am I doing here,
exactly? And then I read the Duke's mail, and Alix's, and Lesley Jo's, and I
remember. God, I wish I wasn't feeling so maudlin today. I need a holiday...

Sod it, I want a pizza.
A sorry and damp Mark xxx
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